Came lightly tripping in a form more fair
Than the young poet's fond ideas are,
When fir'd with love, he tries his utmoft art
To paint the beauteous tyrant of his heart.
A fatin veft his flender shape confin'd,
Embroider'd o'er with flow'rs of ev'ry kind,
Flora's own work, when first the goddess strove
To win the little wand'rer to her love.
Of burnish'd filver were his fandals made,
Silver his buskins, and with gems o'erlaid;
A faffron-colour'd robe behind him flow'd,
And added grace and grandeur as he trod.
His wings than lilies whiter to behold,
Sprinkled with azure fpots, and ftreak'd with gold;
So thin their form, and of fo light a kind,
That they for ever danc'd, and flutter'd in the wind.
Around his temples with becoming air,
In wanton ringlets curl'd his auburne hair,
And o'er his shoulders negligently spread;
A wreath of fragrant rofes crown'd his head.
Such his attire; but O! no pen can trace,
No words can fhew the beauties of his face;
So kind! fo winning! fo divinely fair!
Eternal youth and pleasure flourish there;
There all the little loves and graces meet, [fweet.
And ev'ry thing that's soft, and ev'ry thing that's
Thou vagrant, cried the dame in angry tone,
Where could'st thou loiter thus fo long alone?
Little thou car'ft what anxious thoughts moleft,
What pangs are lab'ring in a mother's breaft.
Well do you fhow your duty by your hafte,
For thou of all my fons art always laft:
A child lefs fondled would have fled more fast.
Sure 'tis a curfe on mothers, doom'd to mourn,
Where beft they love, the least and worst return.
My dear mamma, the gentle youth replied,
And made a low obeifance, ceafe to chide,
Nor wound me with your words, for well you know,
Your Zephyr bears a part in all your woe;
How great must be his forrow then to learn,
That he himself's the caufe of your concern!
Nor had I loiter'd thus had I been free;
But the fair princefs of Felicity
Entreated me to make some short delay;
And, ask'd by her, who cou'd refuse to stay?
Surrounded by the damfels of her court,
She fought the fhady grove, her lov'd resort;
Fresh rofe the grafs, the flow'rs were mix'd between,
Like rich embroid'ry on a ground of green,
And in the midft, protected by the shade,
A crystal stream in wild meanders play'd;
While on its banks, the trembling leaves among,
A thousand little birds in concert fung,
Close by a mount with fragrant fhrubs o'ergrown,
On a cool moffy couch the laid her down;
Her air, her pofture, all confpir'd to please;
Her head, upon her fnowy arm at ease
Reclin'd, a ftudied careleffnefs exprefs'd;
Loofe lay her robe, and naked heav'd her breast.
Eager I flew to that delightful place,
And pour'd a show'r of kiffes on her face;
Now hover'd o'er her neck, her breast, her arms,
Like bees o'er flow'rs, and tafted all their charms;
And then her lips, and then her cheeks I tried,
And fann'd, and wanton'd round on ev'ry fide.
O Zephyr, cried the fair, thou charming boy,
Thy prefence only can create me joy;
To me thou art beyond expreffion dear,
Nor can I quit the place while thou art here.
Excufe my weakness, Madam, when I fwear
Such gentle words join'd with so soft an air,
Pronounc'd fo fweetly from a mouth so fair,
Quite ravish'd all my fenfe, nor did I know
How long I ftaid, or when, or where to go.
Meanwhile the damfels, debonnair and gay,
Prattled around, and laugh'd the time away:
These in soft notes addrefs'd the ravish'd ear,
And warbled out so sweet, 'twas heav'n to hear;
And thofe in rings, beneath the greenwood fhade,
Danc'd to the melody their fellows made.
Some, ftudious of themselves, employ'd their care.
In weaving flow'ry wreaths to deck their hair;
While others to fome fav'rite plant convey'd
Refreshing show'rs, and cheer'd its drooping head.
A joy fo gen'ral spread thro' all the place,
Such fatisfaction dwelt on ev'ry face,
The nymphs fo kind, fo lovely look'd the queen,
That never eye beheld a fweeter scene.
Porfenna, like a ftatue fix'd appear'd,
And wrapp'd in filent wonder gaz'd and heard; Much he admir'd the speech, the speaker more, And dwelt on ev'ry word, and griev'd to find it o'er.
O gentle youth, he cried, proceed to tell,
In what fair country does this princess dwell?
What regions unexplor'd, what hidden coast
Can fo much goodness, fo much beauty boaft?
To whom the winged god with gracious look, Numberlefs fweets diffufing while he spoke, Thus anfwer'd kind-Thefe happy gardens lie Far hence remov'd, beneath a milder fky; Their name-the kingdom of Felicity. Sweet fcenes of endlefs blifs, enchanted ground, A foil for ever fought, but feldom found; Tho' in the search all human kind in vain Weary their wits, and wafte their lives in pain : In diff'rent parties, diff'rent paths they tread, As reafon guides them, or as follies lead; Thefe wrangling for the place they ne'er fhall fee, Debating thofe, if fuch a place there be; But not the wifeft, nor the best can fay Where lies the point, or mark the certain way. Some few, by Fortune favour'd for her sport, Have fail'd in fight of this delightful port; In thought already feiz'd the blefs'd abodes, And in their fond delirium rank'd with gods. Fruitless attempt! all avenues are kept By dreadful foes, fentry that never flept. Here fell Detraction darts her pois'nous breath, Fraught with a thousand stings, and scatters death, Sharp-fighted Envy there maintains her post, [coaft. And shakes her flaming brand, and ftalks around the Thefe on the helpless bark their fury pour, Plunge in the waves, or dafh against the fhore; Teach
Teach wretched mortals they were doom'd to mourn, And ne'er must reft but in the filent urn.
But fay, young monarch, for what name you bear Your mein, your drefs, your perfon, all declare; And tho' I feldom fan the frozen north,
Yet I have heard of brave Porfenna's worth;
My brother Boreas thro' the world has flown,
Swelling his breath to spread forth your renown;
Say, would you chufe to vifit this retreat,
And view the world where all these wonders meet?
Wish you some friend o'er that tempestuous fea
To bear you fafe! behold that friend in me.
My active wings fhall all their force employ,
And nimbly waft you to th' realms of joy;
As once to gratify the god of Love,
I bore fair Pfyche to the Cyprian grove,
Or as Jove's bird, defcending from on high,
Snatch'd the young Trojan trembling to the fky.
There perfect bliss thou may'ft for ever share,
'Scap'd from the busy world, and all its care;
There in the lovely princess fhalt thou find
A mistress ever blooming, ever kind.
All ecstacy on fair Porfenna trod,
And to his bofom ftrain'd the little god;
With grateful fentiments his heart o'erflow'd,"
Andinthewarmeft words millions of thanks beftow'd.
When Eolus in furly humour broke
Their ftrict embrace, and thus abruptly spoke.
Enough of compliment; I hate the sport
Of meanlefs words; this is no human court,
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